


Unjust Consequences

by Sasspiria



Series: Noncontober/Whumptober/Kinktober 2020 [3]
Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Rhys (Borderlands), Dark Rhys, Dirty Talk, Gags, Graphic Description, Handsome Sorcerer AU, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oral Sex, Pillory, Public Humiliation, Public Sex, Public Use, Rape Aftermath, Rescue, Spanking, Top Handsome Jack (Borderlands), Trauma, Violent Sex, Whipping, Witch Rhys (Borderlands)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:40:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26759623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sasspiria/pseuds/Sasspiria
Summary: After being accused of witchcraft, Rhys is tied up to the pillory as punishment for his crimes. Eventually, he attracts the attentions of the Handsome Sorcerer.
Relationships: Handsome Jack/Rhys (Borderlands), Rhys (Borderlands)/Original Character(s), Rhys/Many
Series: Noncontober/Whumptober/Kinktober 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1937374
Comments: 6
Kudos: 62





	Unjust Consequences

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt is Public Use. 
> 
> This one came really easily? I finished it in like 2 days lmao and i had a lotta fun with it 🤪
> 
> [check me out on twit](https://twitter.com/Sasspiria)

Rhys had always had strange abilities – from the time that he was but a babe, resting against his mothers breast, he had had the ability to instinctively call forth daemons and fae creatures to do his will for him. From the time that he was two, he knew incantations and certain spells. By the time that he was a teenager, he had developed the ability to speak to certain animals and he knew how to craft charms to cast off evil and how to brew potions to cure anything that ailed him.

Rhys was powerful in a way that not many were. For some that kind of power would look like world domination. It would look like riches that cannot even be imagined. It would look like holding power over the world. It would like killing the king and naming yourself one. But for Rhys… it looked like a small cottage on the outskirts of his village, clean water and good food. Enough money to keep himself happy. Rhys had never wanted or expected for much.

More than anything else, Rhys just wanted to live peacefully with his family. He didn’t want to attract too much attention to himself, keeping a low profile was the best option for someone magical like him, in a place like Fyrestone where witch craft and magic were high crimes.

That morning, Rhys had taken a walk into the village to bring some deliveries to his customers. Rhys had a small business where he made mixtures of spices as well as certain textiles for people in the village. He was at his loom most days, for hours upon hours upon hours at a time to fill the demands of his customers. Going into town was a blessing.

Rhys had been walking back from the grocer with some baked goods and dairy products when he had been stopped by one of the neighborhood kids bumping into him. He looked down to see a scruffy looking kid named Pickle. “Hey there.” Rhys greeted. “Maybe next time keep your eyes ahead of you.”

“Sorry.” Pickle said, looking for some kind of escape. Rhys rolled his eyes at that, it wasn’t as though he was truly angry with the kid.

Suddenly, Rhys noticed that a weight was missing from his hip. Rhys had enchanted his coin purse so that he would know if it had been swiped. He glared at the kid in front of him. “Give me my coin purse back, Pickle.” Rhys said, his tone stern and harsh. The kid huffed and handed it back to Rhys. He had a guilty look spread across his face. Rhys snatched it back and looked inside of it to see if any coins had been swiped away. Luckily none were gone.

Pickle did look ashamed of himself, he looked truly cowed by the stern words. “Sorry…” He said.

Rhys leaned down so that he was at level with the kid. “Now, why did you go and do that?” He asked, thinking that he should know better.

“I was hungry.” Pickle said, “And the house is getting cold… I wanted to buy some wood for the fireplace.” He explained.

Rhys faltered in response to that, “I don’t understand…” He said, cocking his head to the side in confusion.

“Ma and pa got taken by bandits.” He explained, his tone flat and deadpan, like he had already emotionally recovered from the loss and now his mind was just struggling to focus purely on survival. Rhys understood that feeling well. “Scavs.” He added.

“Oh.” Rhys exclaimed, suddenly filled with sympathy for the child. He reached in his bag and grabbed a hold of the food. He mouthed an enchantment and suddenly his bag had twice as much food in it. He grabbed a loaf of bread, some cheese and a bit of cured meat, as well as a bit of money. “Here. Have a sandwich and some coins for firewood and anything else you might need… and if you’re looking for work, come by to my cabin later.” He said with a gentle smile spread across his face. “I’m sure I can find something for you.”

“Thanks, Rhys, you’re better than most.” He complimented genuinely.

Rhys smiled again and walked off to do the rest of his errands. The day had started off nicely enough and it was nice outside all day, so Rhys could enjoy the walk around the town while he did everything that he needed to do. After he made some deliveries and got some groceries for himself, he walked back home and spent the rest of the night brewing potions and making charms while he had his solitude. After he was done with them, he hid them away like he always did, under the floorboards of the house.

* * *

The day had not ended as nicely as it had started. It had rained that night, heavily enough that it was storming down on his roof. Rhys had piled his fire place up with firewood so that his house was nice and warm and Rhys had been curled up by the fire with some ale and warm stew. He was right on the verge of sleeping right in the hearth when a loud, rambunctious knocking came at his door.

He at first had planned to ignore it, but whoever was knocking was insistent. He sighed and got up out of the makeshift collection of blankets and pillows. “I’m coming, I’m coming! You don’t need to break down my door, for gods sake!” He snapped at whoever was on the other side of the door. He opened the door to see the sheriff, Roland standing at the door with a stern expression spread across his face.

“Good evening, Rhys.” He greeted politely.

“Hi?” Rhys replied, looking at the man with a wary expression. There was no way that he wouldn’t visit Rhys without a good reason. Or a bad reason, more like.

The mood was incredibly awkward, it hung heavily in the air between the two of them. “…May I come in?” He asked.

Rhys looked down at the floor and then eyed past Roland. He was sure that there were some people in the background and that made him feel incredibly wary. “Uh… sure I guess.” He agreed after a moment or two of deliberative silence. Roland nodded and walked in, incredibly polite and professional about it. “What’s going on?” He asked, pretending not to be uncomfortable.

“Look, I’m gonna level with you, Rhys. You’ve been accused of witchcraft.” Roland explained, his tone flat and conciliatory.

“What?” Rhys asked, “Who?” He looked scandalized, his jaw dropped and one hand pressed to his chest as if he was about to drop onto the nearest feinting couch. “I would never-” He started to say but Roland interrupted him.

“I just want to take a look around, okay?” He said. Rhys had no choice but to let him – not letting him would look more suspicious.

Rhys sighed, “Okay.” He said, “Take your time I guess…” He muttered, taking a step away from the man and allow him to do his work. Roland searched around the place for some time, snooping behind boxes and searching inside of every container that Rhys had inside of his cottage – Rhys secretly hoped that he cleaned up after himself before he left.

“What are these?” Roland asked as he pulled a cluster of charms out from behind a few books, they were badly hidden, like someone had meant them to be found. Rhys felt his nerves start to spike, but he tried to keep himself calm.

“I’ve never seen those before.” Rhys said honestly. Those charms were not like the ones that Rhys made – for one thing, they held no magical aura to them, they were about as useful as wind chimes. For another thing, they looked like they were purposefully sinister. Like they were a caricature of what a witch might use to aid in their evil whims.

But Rhys couldn’t very well go and explain that he was not that kind of witch. Even a good witch was liable to be burnt at the stake, drowned, crushed by rocks or hung. And it didn’t seem like Roland was actually interested in the ethical differences between the two. So he kept his mouth shut, whether that was a good decision or not, Rhys had no idea.

The next thing that Rhys knew, he and Roland where overrun by angry, bloodthirsty villagers. It was like they had been possessed by some vengeful, angry spirit. They grabbed Rhys and pulled him out of his house, before anyone could stop them. He looked down and noticed that Roland was knocked unconscious, he was the only person that would bother to stop this nonsense – even if it was just because of his respect for the process of these things – so Rhys was truly screwed, at the mercy of these bloodthirsty peasants in desperate need of entertainment.

As he was dragged out of his house by the villagers, he noticed that Vallory was there, looking at him with a sinister sort of grin spread across his face. Rhys’ felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach. Vallory didn’t like him and she wanted the land that his cabin was on, but he wouldn’t sell it to her. In that moment, he realized that she must have set him up to get rid of him. “You set me up, you-” He didn’t even get a chance to scream at her, because someone had grabbed him by the jaw and force it open with a strange, hollow gag that kept his mouth wide open and his jaw unhinged.

Rhys didn’t want to think about what was going to happen to him that would require his mouth to be wide open like that. Everything that came to mind made him feel sick.

The next hours were a blur. There was no trial, no due process, he went instantly to punishment. It was like within moments, Rhys had gone from a relatively well liked person in town to a pariah. Rhys was a sobbing wreck as he was dragged through the town by two of their strongest enforcers. “Please!” He pleaded with them, trying his best to remain calm as his anxiety kept on ramping up. “Th-this is all a big misunderstanding! I’ve done nothing wrong!” He sobbed openly.

But no one was listening – no one cared. Rhys was taken into the middle of town and held in a cross position, his arms stretched out wide as his clothing was torn from his body. He let out a horrified sob as he was stripped naked for practically every man in the village to see. It was mostly men, all drunken with hungry looks in their eyes, muttering on and on about how pretty and smooth Rhys was and how he was the loveliest whore that they had set their eyes on.

One of the men, a strong tall man that smelled of meat – Rhys wondered if he was the town butcher or some kind of farmer – brandished a whip. He shouted to the crowd that the witch was in some need of punishment and Rhys cried out, terror coursing through him just from the anticipation of pain.

They whipped him over and over again, so hard that Rhys’ skin split and he bled down his back. He couldn’t stop himself from screaming in pain, the thrashing was more intense that anything that he had suffered in his life before this. “Take him to the pillory! Let everyone see what a disgrace he is!” One of the men shouted and pretty soon, everyone was joining in on the jeering.

Rhys was dragged to the middle of town and taken to the stocks, where he was tied up in a position that forced him to bend in half with his arms up over his head and his legs straight. He squeezed his eyes shut as the men formed two lines, one for his ass and one for his mouth.

None of them were gentle with him, they fucked his throat and forced themselves into his ass dry, only caring about their own pleasure. They didn’t even care if Rhys died from the inevitable tearing and injuries that he would take. They slapped him around and roughed up his body too, leaving him covered in red marks, bruises and cum.

It didn’t take long for Rhys to force himself to go away. He tried to go to his happy place, tried to ignore the feeling of one of the soldiers grabbing his hips and forcing his fat cock inside of Rhys’ well used hole, while another man forced himself inside of his mouth. His happy place was a warm and comfortable forest where he could convene with the fae. Most people found them annoyingly fickle creatures and prone to trickery, but Rhys quite liked speaking with them.

That was how he got through his punishment without going completely insane.

When the crowd finally dissipated, Rhys was grateful for the brief respite. His consciousness faded in and out but he never found sleep. The night crawled on and on but he found no peace in the silence and brisk, fresh air around him. All he could do was openly sob, miserable for his future. He would probably be violated again in the morning and again, until the men bored of him and finally decided to kill him. He wasn’t a person anymore, he was just a witch getting their punishments – as unjust as they were.

Rhys closed his eyes again, his head swimming, and tried to focus on peaceful thoughts. But he couldn’t. He found himself hyper-focusing on the sound of the forest around him – the howl of the coyotes, the leaves crunching in the background. What bothered him most was the sound of foot steps getting closer. And closer, until he could hear someone right behind him. His heart caught in his throat and he prayed to every single deity that he had heard of so far. “R-roland?” He asked, his tone hopeful.

“Look… at… you.” A man with a smooth sounding voice said as his hand slid up Rhys’ marked back, his tone adoring and thrilled by the sight of the young man tied up to the pillory. “I didn’t know they tied up their witches and turned them into the town whore.” He squeezed the back of Rhys’ thigh in an appreciative sort of way. “That’s one way to deal with unruly magicks, heh?” There was a humor to the mans voice that Rhys truly didn’t understand.

As far as he was concerned, there was nothing humorous about this. It was horrifying. It was cruel. It was miserable. It was disgusting. It was a lot of things… funny was not one of them. “Gods, you really are a pretty one.” He commented to himself as Rhys’ head lolled to the side. “It’s been years since I’ve seen a little witch like you, natural powers, pretty face and body… you’re perfect kitten.”

The next thing that Rhys knew, the man was pouring a warm, soothing oil on his backside, letting it trickle into his open hole. Two slick fingers pushed inside of him and even though Rhys was loose from all of the violation that he had already dealt with, for some reason the gentle thrusting made him gasp in pleasure and shock. “I just have to get my hands on you. You understand, don’t you darling?” He crooned. “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle, unlike everyone else that’s gotten their hands on you today.”

Rhys let out a whimper and shut his eyes, knowing that gentleness was probably the best that he could expect from a man after today. If he was going to suffer a violation, it may as well be a gentle, nice feeling violation. Even the thought that he should expect this kind of treatment made him feel sick. But what else could he do? He had no power here. No power whatsoever.

His assailant was incredibly gentle as he fingered him open. “You’re still so tight, it’s like you’re a virgin and not-” He huffed quietly and Rhys felt a gentle slap to his backside. “Well, you know what you look like, cupcake. I don’t need to rub it in.” Then he circled around to where Rhys’ head was. He pulled out his cock and got himself hard. “Get this nice and wet for me, pet.” He demanded gently as he thrust his hips forward.

Rhys was exhausted enough that he quickly obeyed, he let his tongue slide up and down the mans thick, long shaft and circle around the head. As he lavished the mans cock, he tried to get a good look at him, but he was too far up for Rhys to truly tell. Once his assailant was satisfied with what Rhys had been doing with his tongue, he pulled out and stroked Rhys’ cheek. “Good boy. So well trained already.” He hummed with faux sweetness. Rhys slumped down again, feeling strange that he was so receptive to the gentle praise and sweet touches. He wondered if he was already broken by everything that had happened to him, if he was already destroyed and shattered beyond repair.

The man moved into position, Rhys let out a quiet moan as he felt his cock being gently squeezed. He hadn’t been touched their all night. “That’s it… you make such pretty noises, darling.” He praised as he guided his cock to Rhys’ wet and open hole. He gently pushed forward.

Rhys cried out, surprised by the pleasure that he felt from the intrusion. He was incredibly inexperienced, before today Rhys had only kissed once or twice. Now he had done… many things and none of them by his own choice. He dipped his head as his assailant squeezed his hips. “I am sorry, you know.” He murmured, dipping down to press kisses against his neck and shoulders. “This isn’t how I would have liked to find you.” He said.

Rhys had no idea what he meant – how could he?

The stranger fucked him gently, his thrusts slow and deep. He stroked Rhys’ cock the whole time, it was like he was trying to make everything nice for him… like this was some warped apology for everything that had been done to him. Rhys didn’t understand why, but he was glad for a reprieve of the pain that he had felt that day.

Rhys came moments before his assailant did… and he still couldn’t understand why his body had allowed him to feel pleasure from this. But he did, it was like he had been made love to. He would never be able to understand his own bodies reaction and he hated himself for it.

The stranger circled around and pulled a water skin out from his pocket and held it to Rhys’ lips, so that he could gratefully drink the water. “That’s right, kitten… drink up.” He cooed. “There you go, look like a whole new man now that you’re hydrated.” He said. “Now let’s see about those binds.” He muttered, as if it was an afterthought.

Suddenly, Rhys wasn’t being held up by the stocks and pillory. In fact, the entire thing that he was held up inside disappeared in a flash. Rhys’ body was so weak that he collapsed onto the muddy ground below him. He looked up at the man, staring at his fanciful looking cloak. He was speechless, he had never seen a man like this, not in all his life. “P-please… please don’ kill me.” He begged quietly.

Then the man, this magical looking man, just chuckled to himself. He moved down to where Rhys lay helplessly and covered his naked body with his cloak. Rhys let out a strange whimper, one that sounded like he was trying to profess his gratefulness but couldn’t find the strength to say the words. “I’m not going to kill you, no, that would be a waste. I’m gonna get you out of here, alright?”

Rhys’ first impulse was to demand that this man take him home. But… knowing the villagers, he had no home to return to. It had probably been ransacked and burnt down. He let out a mournful sob as he thought of the life that he had built going up in smokes like it had and he nodded. “Okay, okay… I’ll go with you.” He agreed.

The stranger smiled and pulled Rhys into his arms. Rhys was so weak that he couldn’t even bring himself to hold onto the man, he instantly went limp as a newborn kitten in the strangers arms. “I’ll take good care of you, little one.” He promised, pressing his lips to the young mans forehead.

Nobody saw the young man that had been so unfairly accused of witchcraft ever again – some say that he was rescued by the Handsome Sorcerer and served as his thrall till this very day.

* * *

Rhys didn’t wake up for days. His body had been overrun by exhaustion, dehydration and all of the other injuries that he had sustained from his public humiliation had kept him asleep, only coming back for moments at a time. In the journey between consciousness and unconsciousness,

When he finally did wake up, he was laying on silk and satin sheets, with soft blankets wrapped around his body. It was the most luxurious room that he had ever been in, in his entire life. He looked around the room that he was in for any hint of his location, but he didn’t couldn’t discern anything about the space except for the fact that it was a nice place. Maybe a castle…?

Suddenly, a serving girl walked into the room and let out a gasp as she noticed that Rhys was up and awake. Before he could call out to her, she ran off. He slumped down in defeat and stared at the door helplessly for a moment or two. Then, with a magical sort of quickness, the servant returned with a large silver platter filled with many different kinds of food, a big jug of wine sat in the middle of it. She set it down at a bedside table. “You should eat.” She gently instructed, “The master will come and see you soon.” She added vaguely.

Rhys was so hungry that he didn’t bother to ask her who this master was and tore into the food and wine that had been given to him. The moment that he had finished with his meal, a man walked in with a pleasant smile spread across his face. He was a handsome looking man, tall and healthy with tanned skin and gorgeous hetero-chromatic eyes. “Glad to see you up and about, kitten.” The man greeted with an easy tone. “You’ve been in and out for days. I thought you’d be unconscious for a helluva lot longer.”

Rhys’ jaw dropped as he looked at the man – he instinctively knew him to be the sorcerer that everyone was so afraid of, the one that had been reigning over the countryside for years. But he smartly kept that to himself. “You…” He exclaimed, looking at the older man with a strange expression spread across his face. “I remember you… f-from last night. You were… you used me after all those other people…but, but then you gave me water, you magicked the stocks away and then I…then I passed out.” His tone was quiet and sleepy, he sounded like he was still confused.

The sorcerer smiled at him, “Sorry, pumpkin, couldn’t help but take a bite out of you. You looked so good tied to those stocks, real filthy…” He chuckled, then quickly put his hands up as if in surrender, “But it won’t happen again, on my honor.” He promised, it was as close to honest as someone like him could get.

Rhys huffed, “Whatever.” He grumbled, he was already much too tired – both emotionally and physically – to fight with the man about it and he felt strangely grateful that he got him out of there anyways. If he hadn’t been rescued, he’d probably be burnt at the stake in the morning. So he could forgive and forget. “What’s your name?” He asked.

The sorcerer smiled and sat down close to where Rhys lay, “Some call me Jack. My friends and family.” He explained. “My worshipers too.” He added slyly.

Rhys arched a brow at that. “Wha- are we friends or family now?” He asked, his tone amused and filled with incredulity.

“We could be.” Jack responded, “If you want.” He added, his tone friendly and jovial.

Rhys looked down at his hands, unsure how he should respond to something like that. “Well, thank you for saving me from even more rape and even more humiliation before they inevitably executed me.” He huffed, “Those worthless, bloodthirsty villagers… I can’t believe they did this to me.” He frowned and bit his lip. “I was never… I didn’t do anything wrong. I was a nice person. I went to church, I gave money and food to beggars, I…” tears fell down his cheeks, “I never, I never-”

The next thing that Rhys knew, he was sobbing in the sorcerers arms – miserable, ugly sobs that racked his chest and hurt to push out from his throat. Jack was quick to coddle him, stroking his back and murmuring soothing nothings to him. “I know, kitten, I know. Mortals are stupid, petty and cruel.” He said to him.

“Those people…” Rhys said, burying his face in the sorcerers robes. He did not understand why he felt so comfortable with him. Maybe it was because he had magic too. Maybe it was because he was the only one that had been willing to do something. Maybe it was some twisted mixture of the two. “They t-turned on me like it was nothing! I d-don’t understand why they would do that! Why would they do that?” He asked, not expecting Jack to answer.

“Those backwater, uncivilized peasants…what do you want to be done to them?” The sorcerer asked, his tone even and strangely kind sounding. The sorcerer was an incredibly intimidating man, older than old and so handsome that he made Rhys’ knees weak but right now… right now he just looked like a man with sympathy in his eyes for someone that had been done so wrong.

Rhys looked down at his bruised thighs and his hands unconsciously dipped under his night gown to feel the cuts on his stomach from being whipped. The memory of his violation was painted all over his body. It would take a long time for them to fade from his body, he didn’t know if they would ever be scrubbed from his memory. “I want every single person who threw mud at me, who jeered at me, who whipped me in public, who laughed at me…” He choked up then, sobs tearing through his throat. “Who raped me… I want them all to pay! I want them dead. I want them to suffer and I want them to die, that’s what I want.” He explained, deadly serious.

It was then that the sorcerer cupped his face and pulled him in for a kiss, binding the witch to him with a gentle press of his lips. “It’s a deal.” He muttered against Rhys’ lips. Then he pulled back and looked at the young man – he looked spell bound in that moment, like Jack could do anything that he wanted to him without consequence. “Now you’re still injured, kitten, I want you to rest. You will rest here and let me and my servants tend to you.” He demanded.

Rhys let out a sigh, allowing himself to fall limp on the bed sheets. “Okay.” He agreed quietly, “I can do that…” He added. His eyes were already getting heavy. Jack smiled and kissed the young witch on the cheek before he got up off the bed and granted him his rest.

When Rhys was recovered, Jack would make sure he got his vengeance. They would raze that village together, hand in magical hand.


End file.
